#morghul1s

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘. powerful magic has etched echoes of spells that now murmur a warning of what had come to pass. he cannot quite understand the mumbling but the magic in this sounds to the magic in him. lost in the low roar of overlapping voices, merlin had hardly registered how he had begun to press his ear to the wall. not until her words cut through, LOUD & CRYSTAL CLEAR, to scatter the ancient rumblings.

DAENERYS WOKE EARLY TO THE SOUND of rain hitting the deck of her ship and men yelling above the crashing waves. Sleep had not yet left her, but she could just make out what caused such commotion – land. Was it a dream, or had she made it home?? The rocking boat made for unsteady footing as Daenerys moved to the deck, hands holding wooden walls to keep from falling. Morning light was dimmed by the storm when she stepped out from the hull of the ship; it felt more like dusk than morning, she thought, lilac eyes rising to the thunderous clouds looming above. Dragon banners held by masts rippled against stiff winds – they were wings carrying her home. She smiled at the thought, her face turned towards the heavens as rain and ocean spray covered her skin in equal parts.

The dragon queen had hardly been noticed, her men bustling around to secure gear to the deck, fighting the elements and barking orders at each other. Their words ( the winds have changed! ) were lost to Daenerys ( drop the sails! ) as she moved to the railing where Arya already stood, holding tightly to the posts. An island floated on the horizon, black cliffs jutting into gray clouds, only just visible through the rain. Dragonstone.

The sky rumbled and her children sang, announcing their arrival as they circled the sky above. Silver hair whipped around her face and stuck to her neck as she looked onto it, struck with pride – struck with fear. "It is just as he described," Daenerys murmured, her voice incredulous. The castle stood atop the rocks as if it was one of them, as if it had been there for a thousand years. "He was just child when we fled – and yet ..."

scoffs,  dagger  extended  in  dominant  hand,  handle  glinting  with  embedded  gems  in  noon  day  sun.  one  of  two  gifted  'pon  tenth  year,  valyrian  steel  to  match  the  simple  pendant  swinging  in  the  hollow  of  her  throat.  twas  only  fools  who  ventured  past  these  walls  without  suitable  weaponry  ─  she'd  slipped  the  guards  in  the hall,  scaling  ledge  outside  her  wide  balcony  window.  slipping  over  stones  in  borrowed  squires  clothes  to  follow  moondancer's  high  pitched  trills.     ❝    misplace  this  at  your  peril.    ❞